CHAPTER 17
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Reegis was kept very busy training volunteers for the new militia. Menon too, had learned how to defend himself on his travels, and was happy to pass those basics on. Hudnee was asked to take some of the volunteers as well, and drill them in various moves that Reegis taught him.
It was eventually decided that the militia’s main weapons would be a sharpened pole for use against a rushed attack, and short stabbing swords adapted from the bronze fishing knives the villagers carried. Everyone was keen to learn, and the new fighting force took shape quickly. Meanwhile, Habna was preparing her plans for psychological warfare.
“We take a few of the weaker Descendant enclaves by a show of superior strength,” she explained to the militia leaders.
“I think we can do that without anyone getting killed. Then we take the food stores, and the inhabitants, and level the buildings, as if there has been a pitched battle with extensive casualties.
“I can make up some fake blood with a small amount of fish guts in it to give it a bit of a tang, and we can leave pools of that lying around. To anyone who chances on the scene, it has to look suitably terrifying. Are you getting the picture?”
They nodded.
“We want the Descendants to give up their power,” she continued, “but we don’t want to punish the villagers. Let them decide what they want to believe once they’ve had a chance to try the alternatives. If they want to go back to the Descendant ways that’s their choice.
“Regardless of who chooses what, we set up a system where organised religions have no power. Are we agreed?”
Everyone nodded. She made sense. The power of the Descendants had to be stopped.
It was less than two weeks later that the Shellport militia set off up the Kapuas river in a fleet of dooplehuel. It was heading for the nearest settlement known to have a Descendant stronghold.
Shellport’s allies to the south had begun their advance into the centre of Hud a few days before, with a much larger force. Both militias had also linked up with a number of smaller groups, prevailing upon them to wait until one of the organised militias arrived before they joined the fray.
Unfortunately, things didn’t always go as planned. On several occasions ragged mobs from the independent communities not in the militia tried to storm Descendant enclaves on their own. In most cases they were thrown back with many killed, or seriously injured.
It was sad to see Hudnee killing Hudnee, thought Habna, but the development of the militias had also brought a very welcome benefit. The Human home planet had outfitted a medical ship, to save as many of the wounded and malnourished as possible, and it should arrive at Hud soon.
This gladdened Habna’s heart, because now something would be done for Menona. That thought was offset to some extent by the knowing the people of Hud were drawing closer to the time they would farewell some of their young folk to pilot strange ships among the stars.
She had known, in theory, that people from another planet would arrive one day, however far in the future. But to think it had happened in her lifetime was almost beyond her comprehension. Icy fingers ran down her spine as she shivered at the thought, a mixture of apprehension for the future of Hud and excitement at the possibilities.
Then the day came when the fleet of Shellport dooplehuel unloaded the militia on the banks of the Kapuas. They set up camp a short march from the first of the Descendent settlements.
Reegis gathered the other militia leaders together and discussed strategy. They wanted to take the settlement quickly, and with a minimum of bloodshed.
The following day the Shellport militia came out of the early morning darkness like phantoms. Their feet were bound with woven grasses and covered with tight hide coverings, so they made no sound as they moved. Special squads had been trained to take the guards from behind without a sound, and render them unconscious.
The troops peeled off in squads, and secured the main gate and walls of the Descendant bastion first, then worked their way through the rabbit warren of buildings inside.
It took a little time to find the guards on the walls and take them down without raising the alarm, but after that there was little resistance. The militia burst into the houses and routed out the inhabitants, keeping the Descendants separate where it was abvious who they were.
Eventually the militia had all the inhabitants assembled outside the main gates, with the Descendants they had identified and the guards they had captured in a group to one side.
Hudnee made a speech to the gathering, explaining the rising against the Descendants all across Hud, and giving the villagers this place and all the lands that went with it as their own. He asked for any remaining Descendant officers to step forward, and when few did he had the villagers identify them. There was no shortage of willing hands to drag the officers across to join the ones that already stood apart.
The militia took the Descendant officers and guards with them when they moved on, leaving their families at the village they had just freed. The prisoners were given heavy loads to carry and pushed hard. It increased the speed of the militia across the countryside if they could leave a baggage train to bring up the rear.
The next two villages did not have Descendant offices in them, and the next one, similar to the first village, fell to the militia in much the same way. After this progress continued up the Kapuas river on foot, now the river had become too shallow for the dooplehuels.
Reports from their partners in the south confirmed they were making similar progress in their push up the centre of Hud toward Roum.
Then it was time for the militia’s first real test. The Descendants had converted the major town of Saintsborough into a well-defended fort. A direct attack on the main gates would be unlikely to succeed, and it would cost many lives.
The war council that met that night had a lot to consider. Habna, as usual, had the most innovative ideas. Menon had to point out the limitations of some of them – there was only so much you could do with what you had – but slowly a plan came together.
The next morning the militia filtered out of the darkness as was becoming their usual way, and the guards on the walls rushed to get the Tribunal chairman, Osteon Partheni.
When he arrived he threw back his cloak and stood impatiently, hands on hips, as he looked down at the broad ring of people surrounding the main gates. They were all absolutely still in the half-light of the growing dawn.
The first row consisted of the men and women of the Shellport militia, long sharpened poles forward at the ready, and short stabbing blades at their sides. Behind them stood some of the men of the liberated villages with quarterstaffs, called up at short notice as reinforcements.
Some way back again, the village women were operating simply constructed crossbows, saplings bent back an arm’s length on either side by a cranking system. Stout wooden bolts lay ready to fire. The appearance of discipline and intent was impressive.
“Who’s in charge of this rabble?” bellowed Partheni.
Habna’s heart sank. It took just one belligerent leader to send many innocent people, on both sides, to their deaths. Reegis was the military commander, but he didn’t have a good command of the language yet. Menon stepped forward to answer.
“Hand over Saintsborough to us,” he said, his voice strong and clear, “and you will not be harmed. You have a quarter of the troops we have. Don’t let unnecessary bloodshed be on your conscience.”
Partheni laughed disdainfully.
“We can hold out behind these walls against villagers and sticks for as long as it takes, and when reinforcements come from Roum your head will take pride of place over these very gates!”
Habna doubted Roum would send any of its troops to Saintsborough, not with rumours of militia bands roaming the countryside at will, and closing in on Roum with every passing day. It was a bluff, but there was no point in arguing with arrogance.
“You live in a wooden town,” said Menon, “and you m
ay have noticed how fair the weather has become. We do not want to burn you out!” Then he paused.
“Come, Descendant Partheni,” he continued. “I repeat, neither you or any of the Descendants will be harmed. When this is all over, you will be allowed to practice as Descendants as before. Let us end this with a truce now. Surrender Saintsborough to us and there will be no loss of life.”
“And let you run Hud to your own selfish desires, and commit blasphemy every day?” roared the Tribunal chairman.
Partheni was building himself up to a tirade, but then he abruptly stopped himself. He barked something to the guards on his left, and they disappeared out of sight along the top of the palisade.
The guards returned a moment later with two struggling captives.
“You say you want to save these villagers,” roared Partheni. “Well, let’s see how much you want to save them.”
He took a short sword from one of the guards, stepped forward, and stabbed each of the villagers through the heart. The guards let go of their captives, shocked by the sudden action, and the bodies tumbled off the wall. They landed with a sickening thud at the bottom of it.
For a moment there was a stunned silence, and then an angry murmuring ran through the militia forces. They began to edge forward, and it was clear they wanted to tear down the walls there and then to get at the Descendant leader.
Partheni laughed again.
“An undisciplined rabble, as I said!” he continued. “If any of you attack Saintsborough, I will order every one of these villagers you want to ‘save’, killed on the spot.”
Then he swung his cloak around and marched off the wall.
Reegis hesitated. It pained him to do nothing about the atrocity, but there would come another time. He gave the order to retreat to the campsites, and slowly, not liking it, the militia obeyed. The mass of armed villagers moved away into the growing dawn light.
Partheni’s arrogance was not the only problem to be discussed at the militia council that afternoon.
“We have been able to supplement our rations with what we catch from the Kapuas,” said Menon, “but we have the Descendant prisoners to feed now as well. The villages we have been freeing from Descendant control can’t help us. They don’t have any extra food to share with us either.
“The fishing and gathering details back at Shellport are laying down more provisions for us, and we’ll have to send a party back to collect what they’ve prepared fairly soon. In the meantime we can get by for a few more days.”
“That’s one of the reasons we can’t afford a siege,” said Reegis. “In this sort of warfare even a few days delay can be disastrous for the supply chain when we get further down the track. We have to keep moving, we have to keep the momentum up.”
They talked long into the afternoon, devising a plan.
CHAPTER 18
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Hudnee led some of the Shellport villagers out of the militia camp well before dawn. He took them to an area of spindly trees near the river, and they set to work making ladders. Menon gathered together another group an hour later, and they began to harvest grasses and deadwood, and pile it stealthily against the gates of the Descendant’s fort. The night was black, and a murmuring breeze helped cover the sound of their activities,
The guards on the walls roused themselves with the first light of dawn. They saw the brushwood piled against the gates, and sounded the alarm. That was the signal the militia had been waiting for.
They moved the cumbersome crossbows forward until they had a good line on the walls, and kept up a steady fire at any of the guards who showed themselves. After several went down with broken bones from the heavy wooden bolts, the guards stayed below the parapets.
The brushwood was put to the torch, and it was soon burning fiercely. The flames leapt up hungrily, and began to nibble away at the logs above them.
The militia clustered round the gates, stamping on the ground in unison and yelling fiercely. They were hoping to keep the guards occupied at the front of the fort while the timber of the gates burned through.
At the back of the fort, Reegis led five teams to the walls. Each had their own quickly fashioned ladder, and in moments he had 20 of his best fighters over the walls and down at ground level.
Initially there was little resistance, and each guard they met was quickly silenced. They were able to spread out through the compound, moving silently and staying vigilant. They were still vulnerable to a coordinated attack by the guards, and would be until the main force of militia broke through the gates.
Most of what they encountered was storehouses, sadly depleted but still holding precious grains and tubers. One of Reegis’ men beckoned to the rest from behind a long building that turned out to be the guard barracks.
Just beyond it they found dozens of villagers, crammed into a long, lean-to shack and sleeping on the dirt floor. It looked like they were being used as slave labour. Most of the villagers had already heard the crackle of the fire at the gates, and were sitting up. They could also hear the sounds of the guards rousing themselves, and hurrying to form up in lines facing the gate.
Reegis motioned the militia force back into the shadows. The gates were now clearly outlined in the roaring sheet of flame on the other side, but they hadn’t burned through yet. If only his little force could remain undetected for a little longer, they could set about freeing the villagers once the militia broke through.
There was the sound of running feet on the wall of the fort behind them, guards looking for the absent sentinels, and then cries as the guards discovered the militia. Reegis sent one of his best men back over the wall to tell Menon of their predicament, and then led the others in a charge into the lean-tos, where they quickly overpowered the two guards who had been set to watch over the villagers.
Menon looked around and assessed the situation. There was only one way into the lean-to, and it looked like it would be possible to defend the door indefinitely. More of the guards boiled out of the barracks, and some of them tried to force their way in through the door to the lean-to.
There was a quick clash of weapons, and the guards dropped back. They could only come through the door two at a time, and the first ones through had been easily overpowered. Then Partheni arrived on the scene. Cowed by his curses and threats, the guards began to kick in the flimsy walls of the lean-to, trying to make more entrances.
Reegis arranged the villagers on the other side from the guards, out of the way, and arranged his fighters to repel a frontal attack. A number of openings were rapidly appearing in the wall.
The Shellport man that Reegis had sent as messenger had climbed an access way to the walls of the fort, but he was immediately seen by the guards. He raced away from them toward the ladders the militia had used to enter the fort, but it took only moments to see the guards had thrown the ladders off the walls. They were now lying in a heap on the ground at the foot of the wall. He continued quickly to his right, away from the pursuing guards.
Then there were more guards, coming at him along the wall from the other direction. There was no time to think, and he reacted instinctively. He eased himself over the wooden parapet and hung by his fingers. In the faint light of the growing dawn he could see little of the ground below him. He pulled his feet up into a crouch, and dropped.
He came around face down on the ground. The pain in his legs was intense. He bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle the urge to cry out. His left leg had struck something hard when he’d landed, a boulder or an old stump perhaps, and when he tried to stand on it he collapsed again.
The pain was tremendous, but he dragged himself up onto his hands and knees. After a moment of grim determination he crawled away into the darkness, gritting his teeth each time his damaged leg bumped along the ground.
Back at the lean-to the front wall was almost completely gone, just the poles that held the roof up remaining. The militia were very busy holding the guards off, outnumbered two to one. Only the cramped c
onditions gave them something like an even chance.
Reegis was everywhere, working his way up and down the defensive line, removing guards from the equation with every lightning fast slash of bright metal in his hand.
He had the advantage of alloyed steel so sharp it cut effortlessly through whatever it touched, and he also had a lifetime of combat experience. Still, they were slowly being pressed back. Reegis was beginning to wonder if the main militia force would ever break through the gates.
Then there was a resounding boom as a driving wedge of militia fighters, crouched around the long-dead trunk of a fallen tree, charged through the gates. Burning debris exploded in every direction, and some of it fell back on the militia as they resolutely ploughed forward.
Keeping their momentum going, they continued at a run across the compound, and eventually demolished the building next to the guard barracks. Distracted, some of the guards facing Reegis’ forces turned to meet the new threat. Partheni fled the scene, scampering up the access way to the back wall of the fort.
The tide quickly turned in favour of the militia forces now. The guards threw down their weapons when there was no longer any sign of the Tribunal chairman, and it was clear they were now heavily outnumbered.
Reegis could see Hudnee organising some of the militia to keep the fire from spreading from the gates. Then he heard a choked off scream to his left, and started at a trot toward it. He barked a quick command to some of his men to follow. The left side of the compound was made up of living quarters for the Descendants and their families, and it was from there the scream had come.
As he burst through the door of what looked like a large communal area, Reegis saw the bodies of two Descendants on the floor, draped in their official robes. He moved swiftly across the room and through another door into what must have been a dining room.
Unfortunately the slaughter of the Descendants was already complete. Incensed at their treatment over the time of the incessant rains, watching their families starve, unable to find Partheni after his brutal acts of murder, the liberated villagers that were now part of the militia had taken their outrage out on the Descendant families.
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